What's Up, Pussycat?
by Girl in a White Dress
Summary: [CSI Miami]


Title: What's Up, Pussycat?

Author: Melanie-Anne

Email: melani_anne@yahoo.com 

Rating: PG

Summary: "Calleigh, you're killing me. Get back here." [H/C fluff]

Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me, I'm just playing in Uncle Jerry's sandbox.

A/N: Because I promised something cheerful.

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Calleigh held her breath as the lock clicked and she slowly pushed the door open. The house was dark and quiet, its occupant still asleep. Calleigh tiptoed to the bedroom to make sure. When she saw Horatio sprawled across the bed, she smiled and pulled the door closed. She returned to her car and took a big cardboard box from the back seat. She slung a bag over her shoulder and went back inside.

Checking that the bedroom door was still closed, Calleigh set the box on the floor and lifted out two kittens; one black and white, the other ginger. They blinked sleepily at her and sniffed around when she put them on the floor. The ginger one, the more adventurous of the two, went in search of somewhere warm to sleep. The black and white one curled up right where she was. Calleigh smiled and went to the kitchen.

Through the windows, she could see the sunrise. She glanced at the clock; Horatio would be up soon. Humming to herself, she put the kettle on. Horatio was an early riser who liked to go jogging to start the day. But today wasn't just any day, Calleigh thought. She had to make it special.

When the water boiled, she made two cups of coffee and went to wake Horatio. She pushed the door open with her hip and set the coffee down on the bedside table. Horatio was exactly as she had left him; she almost hated to disturb him. Smiling, she climbed onto the bed and swung her leg over him. He mumbled in his sleep. Now straddling him, Calleigh leaned forward until her cheek was brushing his.

"Rise and shine, birthday boy," she whispered.

He opened his eyes slowly, his expression turning from confusion to happiness when he saw who had woken him. Calleigh straightened, her legs on either side of his hips, her hands resting on his chest.

"How'd you know exactly what I wanted?" His voice was still thick with sleep.

"I'm psychic." She grinned. "I made coffee."

"Later. I want to unwrap my present now." He grabbed her wrists and pulled her down. She laughed, but didn't resist. She couldn't think of anything sexier than a shirtless Horatio, his hair tousled from sleep. His hands slid across her hips and he pulled her against him. Eventually she rolled away and slipped off the bed.

"I'll be right back."

He propped himself up on his elbow. "Where are you—? Cal, you're wearing your pajamas."

"Observant of you to notice. I can see they don't pay you for nothing. Oh, don't look at me like that. I was just too lazy to get dressed before I left home." She lowered her voice and winked. "I wasn't planning on staying in them too long."

He groaned and reached for her, but she darted away. "Calleigh, you're killing me. Get back here."

"In a minute. I haven't given you your gift yet." She headed for the living room and scooped up the two kittens in her arms. The ginger one looked upset at being disturbed, while the other didn't even open her eyes. She returned to the bedroom to find Horatio sitting up, drinking coffee. His eyes widened when he saw what she was carrying.

"Tell me those aren't mine."

She deposited the kittens on the bed, deliberately not making eye contact. "Well, you know what they say: you don't own cats, they own you."

The ginger tom started exploring. He climbed up onto Horatio's lap, ears perked, whiskers forward as he slowly sniffed at Horatio's chest. Then, obviously deciding he approved, he nuzzled Horatio and started purring. Calleigh didn't miss the smile that tugged at Horatio's lips.

"He reminded me of you," she said.

The other cat, curious to see what had caught her brother's interest, joined him on Horatio's lap. She looked up at Horatio, unblinking. Eventually deciding he wasn't a threat, she curled up, tucking her paws underneath her and resting her head on Horatio's knee.

"Okay. Why two?"

"Because one would be lonely." 

Horatio smiled and Calleigh knew he understood what she really meant. "I suppose we'd better name them, then."

"Smith and Wesson."

He laughed. "Watson and Holmes."

"Spilsbury and Locard," Calleigh countered. She sat down and scratched the ginger kitten's head.

"Mulder and Scully."

"Bonnie and Clyde."

They gave up, laughing too hard to continue the game. "You know," Horatio said, "We can't even name cats. Just imagine how tough children are going to be."

Calleigh's smile faded and she fidgeted with the hem of her pajama pants. "Well, now that you mention it . . . there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about . . ."

Horatio was silent, and Calleigh looked up. "You're . . . are you . . . ?"

"Nope," she giggled. "But I had you going, didn't I?"

"Calleigh Duquesne!" Forgetting about the kittens on his lap, he dove for her, pinning her to the bed. "You know, you're going to have to pay for that."

Calleigh sighed happily. "Okay."

The kittens, unhappy at being ignored, jumped off the bed. The ginger kitten went to explore the rest of his new house while his sister was content to fall asleep on Calleigh's discarded shirt. 

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End file.
